The trade in artificial precious stones has become quite important, and the manufacture of them has reached a considerable degree of perfection. The products of some of the shops would almost deceive an expert, but the test of hardness is still infallible. The beautiful “French paste,” from which imitation diamonds are made, is a kind of glass with a mixture of oxide of lead. The more of the latter the brighter the stone, but also the softer, and this is a serious defect. The imitation stones are now so perfectly made and are so satisfactory to those who are not very particular, that their influence begins to be felt in the market for real stones. By careful selection of the ingredients and skill and attention in manipulation, the luster, color, fire and water of the choicest stones are, to the eyes of laymen, fully reproduced.—Popular Science Monthly.
(1522)
Imitation, as we see it in man, seems to extend over a wider range of action and production than in any other animal. It is not confined, as in the monkeys, to the production of like attitudes or bodily acts; it is not confined, as in the birds, to the imitation of sounds; it includes all alike, and is characterized, furthermore, by conscious pleasure in the doing. Every one who has observed children knows the keen delight with which they first perceive the likeness between two things; that to recognize in a picture a thing which they have actually seen is a distinct enjoyment; that in the same way the second telling of a story, or the second playing of a game, seems to give an additional and independent pleasure to the child. And so with ignorant people when they look at pictures, the great, if not the only source of pleasure seems to be the detecting of the likeness to something they know. After the artists of Greece and Rome had reached their highest levels and done their best work, the critic of art found in the exactness of the likeness one of the highest, perhaps the highest element of excellence. The birds that flew to the grapes of Zeuxis, the horse that neighed to the painted horse of Apelles, the painted curtain of Parasius that deceived Zeuxis himself—these seemed to Pliny, and, I suppose, to the ancient world generally, to be the highest tributes to the excellence of the artists.—Lord Justice Fry, Contemporary Review.
(1523)
Our evil deeds as well as our good ones will be imitated, often to our own undoing as in the following incident:
The Green Bag tells of an experience which Nathaniel Whitmore, a prominent Maine lawyer, had with a student who was graduated from his office. When Mr. Whitmore was past sixty this young man started practise in a neighboring town; and the older lawyer gave him charge, as agent, of certain property situated in the town where his former clerk was practising. Everything was drawn up in legal form, and the young man fulfilled his duties most satisfactorily. The rents came regularly, together with full accounts of repairs, which were much less than formerly; tenants were satisfied; the property never paid so well before, and Mr. Whitmore was well pleased. Then came a brief letter stating that the property had been sold for taxes. Dumfounded, Mr. Whitmore hastened to his agent to demand what this meant. “How does this happen that I am sold out for taxes?” he asked. “There was nothing in the agreement about taxes,” explained the young man, handing to his former client the signed agreement. “Had taxes been mentioned, I should have paid them.” “Who bought the houses?” the elder man asked, with a shade of amusement in his tone, as a light began to dawn on his mind. “I did,” replied the young man, modestly. “The devil you did! Where did you learn that trick?” asked Mr. Whitmore, now fully comprehending the situation. “In your office,” came the answer, in the same modest voice. “I look out for a poor client, but a rich lawyer can look out for himself.” The two men shook hands and changed the subject.
(1524)
A beautiful statue once stood in the market-place of an Italian city. It was the statue of a Greek slave-girl. It represented the slave as tidy and well drest. A ragged, uncombed little street child, coming across the statue in her play, stopt and gazed at it in admiration. She was captivated by it. She gazed long and lovingly. Moved by a sudden impulse, she went home and washed her face and combed her hair. Another day she stopt again before the statue and admired it, and she got a new idea. Next day her tattered clothes were washed and mended. Each time she looked at the statue she found something in its beauties until she was a transformed child.